States: Virginia's Closet Cleaning
by Parable
Summary: The State of Virginia decides it's time to clean out her closet. In the process of doing so though, she finds some items that bring back bad memories. Memories of her own failed rebellion against her father, America. England and France show up later.
1. Chapter 1

France is hard to write so I took a break from The Long Road, to work on another story I've had in my head. The first part of my States series, where the Hetalia cast interact with the American states. Read and review this one and stay tuned for the next story, States: Babysitter Italy!

Note:_ italics_ – present day, unless in the past in which case they are thoughts or Latin.

Disclaimer: Don't own Hetalia

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States: Virginia's Closet Cleaning

"_I have to get this done." Virginia said to herself with determination._

_It was a daunting task, but it was a necessary one. Tomorrow was her birthday. And birthdays for a state meant 50 plus presents of varying shapes and sizes from all of her brothers, sisters, cousins, and her father, less than half of which she actually used. Not wanting to be rude, the rest she stored away in case the giver would want to see that she gift she received had been appreciated (Except the rattle snake that idiot New Mexico had given her, she had sent that thing out the window two seconds after taking it out of the bag). But after all these years she was simply running out of space._

_And thus Virginia found herself in the present predicament of needing to clear out her closet of everything she had received over the last hundred years and whatever else she had put in there and forgot about. _

_It had to be done before tomorrow, when everyone would be at her house. It had to be done. It had to be done._

_She really did not want to do this._

_Virginia stood before the mahogany door of her hallway closet. A notepad and pen were held in one hand. The pale blonde girl steeled herself. Taking a deep breathe she muttered to herself, "Come on, Virginia. You're the responsible one in the family. Just get this finished."_

_With a purposeful hand, she grabbed gently opened the door and stepped inside. Reaching onto the wall, Virginia found and flicked on the light switch. Her cool blue gave the room and its contents a slow, appraising look._

_Frowning, she turned off the dim light, waited a few seconds, and then switched it back on. Still there. She tried again, and again. Dark, light, dark, light. _

_It did not work. Everything was still there. Virginia stared in horror at the sight of it all._

"_This is going to take awhile." She mumbled hopelessly._

_Before the genteel Southern state was a mountain – no, several mountains – of various objects from over the decades. They were literally piles of useless junk she had never spared a second glance at since putting in here. Just how big was this closet? How long would this take her? A year?_

_Virginia shook her head, dispelling any despairing thoughts. Stop that, she thought, A lady does not shirk her responsibilities._

_She stepped into the closet, calculating where each foot would fall to avoid breaking anything. Where to begin?_

_The pile with the surfboard sticking out of it seemed like a good start. Any heap with California's gifts in it had probably been the heap Virginia had written off as "throw away at earliest possible convenience." Admittedly, the surf board was one of her adopted sister's nicer gifts (nicely normal, at any rate) but Virginia shuddered at the idea of making a fool of herself at the beach. The rest of California's birthdays presents to her on the other hand…_

_What was wrong with that girl? A plastic cow that sang a commercial jingle, a bust of Ronald Reagan, another of Arnold Schwarzenegger, A tie-dye shirt that didn't fit (Much to her irritation, it fit the much taller sister just fine), a headband with furry cat ears on it, a life sized terminator…_

_It was all going to go. California had most likely long forgotten most of this stuff anyway._

_Virginia scribbled down what was to be tossed out. She went to her knees and pulled out other smaller items, mumbling to herself as she marked them down as well._

"_Walkman?" Toss._

"_Sketchbook?" Keep._

"_Jewelry box?" Toss. _

"_Bucket full of sea shells?" Toss_

"_A colonial dress?" Toss._

"_A Continental Army uniform?" Was it hers? Virginia checked for the patched hole. Yes, it was indeed hers. Keep._

"_Star Wars toy?" Toss_

"_Cheese grater?" Toss_

"_Alien costume?" Toss_

"_Chest of –" _

_Virginia gave the old wooden chest a puzzled stare. Just what has in this thing anyway? She didn't remember putting this in here. Deftly, she pulled the chest out of the pile and set it down on the space clear of junk next to her. Fingers traced the unlocked clasp that held the lid down. She flipped it up and opened up the chest._

_Inside was a uniform. Grey. Grey and torn and bloody. _

Cannons in the distance and musket fire up close, officers shouting orders and men yelling in anger and fear and pain across the field: the sounds of war surrounded the exhausted Virginia. Lines of soldiers, blue and grey marching towards each other, halting only to aim, fire, and unleash a wave of death upon the opposing side and filling the air with the smell of gunpowder. Lines collapsing as soldiers from one side of the battlefield reached the other and bayonets and small arms replaced the massive fire lines. Fighting each other, slaughtering each other, dying amongst one another.

It was all so close – this battle between her men and her father's. Of course it was close, she was right there in the thick of it; she'd been rallying her men with a defiant rebel yell at her lips, leading the charge of Confederate troops. Those troops, exhausted, starving, defiant nonetheless, determined to drive the enemy who was their brother out of their home. Their determination made Virginia proud, and seeing their state proud of them made the men even more determined not to let this battle go any further south. With abandon they plunged into the battle against the Yankees. Virginia by their sides, encouraging them. Virginia in front of them, leading the glorious charge.

None of that mattered now, though. The cannons and muskets might as well have been pebbles dropping into the pond. The roar of battle was so distant. Everything was distant. Men seemed to silently move around her like she was encased in an invisible shell. Everything was a blur, the whole battle shifting and twisting like some mad painting of horrid grey and blue and brown and red. Everything really was right there, Virginia just couldn't focus on it, so concerned she was with the task at hand.

Georgia was lying on the ground, bleeding, crying, screaming. Her gun next to her in the dirt, her grey uniform was torn and soaked in blood, most of it hers but some from Virginia's own fresh wounds. Virginia did her best to stop the bleeding, but nothing she did could stop her dark haired sister's shrieks.

"It hurts." Georgia gasped, "It hurts so much."

Virginia tried to block out Georgia pain filled words as she wrapped strips of cloth around her stomach. Virginia's hands were unsteady, that artillery fire was still ringing in her ears, and she felt so weak. She quickly wiped her brow and looked up from where she was on the ground. It would take forever to reach the doctors back at the camp.

Georgia cried out again. Blood began to seep down her forehead

"Just stay still, alright?" Virginia said reassuringly, "You're going to be fine."

The younger sister managed move her head to stare at her elder with hollow, tired eyes. "I can't do this anymore. It hurts so much." she whispered.

"No!" Virginia bent down closer to her face. "Listen to me!" she said desperately, "You have to stay strong! We can still win this, we just have to hold out for a little while longer!"

Georgia's tired eyes looked unbelievingly at her fellow Southern state.

"Remember what we're fighting for!" Virginia pressed on, "Remember your people. They're counting on you to stay strong!"

"Strong… I cant…"

Georgia's blue eyes struggled to stay open. Slowly, every blink brought them further to a close before they shut completely. Virginia felt her body turn cold.

"Georgia? Georgia!" she shrieked, "No! Stay awake! You need to stay awake."

Was it really over? No! Virginia would not accept that! She grabbed Georgia's shoulders and shook her unconscious body

"Please Georgia! Wake up!" Tears welled Virginia's eyes. "You need to – I need you…"

"Virginia!"

The state in question looked up. The bubble that had isolated her from the raging battle was broken. War and death once again overwhelmed the leader of the Confederacy. But once again she ignored it all. The people in front of her grabbed all her attention.

Her brother Illinois, was the one who called her out. Disheveled clothes and uncombed brown hair did nothing to dampen the cold fire in his eyes. Next to him was Ohio, the red head state who seemed to relish the savagery of the war. California, her trademark loopy smile replaced with a grim frown and dirty face. Pennsylvania and Rhode Island, looking better than when she had last saw them. All of them were armed. All of them wore blue

In front of them all was her father, America. Her excitable and loud father, friendly if forceful. Her smiling, bespectacled father, with his warm embrace and thunderous laughter.

This was a different father. A worn out father whose laughter was hollow and smiles devoid of mirth. Not that he was smiling at the moment. In fact his face was expressionless, as if he was letting his children do all the emotional work for him. This wasn't the father who had held her in his arms and thrown her into the air. This wasn't the father who had thrown her huge birthday parties and boasted to all his friends about how she was such a responsible young lady. This was a father who had spent four years of civil war trying to bring eleven rebellious children back under his rule.

Eleven rebellious children that she was the leaders of.

Virginia grabbed her rifle and leaped up in front of Georgia. She aimed at her father. It wasn't loaded but he didn't know that.

Or maybe he did. He barely blinked at her movements and waved off her siblings as they moved to defend him. America did not raise his own weapon, he merely stared at Virginia as she struggled to keep the gun aimed straight in her unsteady hands.

"This war is over, Virginia." He said.

Virginia glared at him and growled, "Not as long as I draw breathe."

America's eye's narrowed. "Look around you, Virginia! Your people are dying, I've already dragged some of your fellow rebels back into the Union. You're going to kill yourself if you keep on resisting! Look at what you've done to Georgia!" he motioned to his other daughter on the ground.

"I don't care!" she shouted, "We all feel the same way and we would rather die than be slaves to you!

"You really don't understand the irony of what you just said, do you?" America said sadly. "You can't keep fighting. You don't have too. We can work this out, Virginia. Just come back me."

He looked at her and his emotions finally showed. She could see the anguish and sorrow in his eyes.

"Please, just be my daughter again."

Virginia almost lowered her rifle. There was sincerity in his words. And she was sick and tired of fighting her sibling. To be a family again, a whole family. Maybe, maybe…

_No! The cause, stay loyal to the cause! You wanted freedom and you have to fight to get it! Everything has a price and you have to pays yours!_

Virginia looked at her Union siblings and her father with renewed determination. She hefted the rifle and sprinted, bayonet flashing in the sun. America didn't move. Fine with her.

Let him be noble, he's too full of himself anyway.

Bayonet held firm. America not moving. Virginia closer with each step.

"_Sic semper tyrannis__!"_ she shouted as she thrust the weapon at his heart.

_Virginia slammed the lid shut. _

_Oh. It was that chest._ _Virginia shook her head to dispel those memories. She was not going to dwell on that time so close to her birthday. No. No. No. No._

_And yet… Something compelled Virginia. Sighing, sure she was going to hate herself later for this, she opened up the chest and looked back again into the memories of those dark days._

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So, did you like it? Yes? No? Maybe so? Tell me please! And stay tuned for part two!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 is finally done! It only took forever. Sorry to anyone expecting epic battles. This one's all talk but its talk that paves the way for the battles so please read. I apologize to any Virginian or New Yorker who takes offence when reading this. None was intended.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia

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Ch. 2

_January, 1861_

If Virginia was not a lady she would have been stomping down the hall to her father's study, cursing loud enough to make New Jersey blush. She would be slamming her fists on the door until becoming fed up to the point of kicking it down with a pair of well worn boots. Lastly she would be demanding an immediate action from her father by standing on her toes and screaming in his face.

If she was not a lady.

Instead, the young woman walked briskly down the hall to her father's study, as fast as her skirts would allow, her body quivering with anger. Once she reached the door she gave several sharp raps that should be clearly heard by anyone on the other side. "Father?" she said loudly and waited. No reply. She knocked again.

"Father? Father are you in there?" After another moment of waiting she turned the doorknob.

No one was in the room, though apparently a tornado had just left. Documents and newspapers were all over the desk and floor. A blanket had been carelessly thrown over a chair which had not been pushed back under the desk. A candle long since melted down was also on the desk, beside a plate of whatever was left over of her father's dinner. A collection of unread books were piled up by the window, the ones that had been read (all three of them) were shoved carelessly in various places across a bookshelf.

Virginia's anger gave way to exasperation. Honestly, even if he did not allow slavery in his home he could at least hire a few servants to pick up after him.

His old Revolutionary War musket was resting in the corner, so was his other old one from the war with Mexico. The newest of his firearms was placed high on the wall facing the door. Polished and cleaned, it made the wall the only part of the room that seemed fresh and neat.

Unfortunately the rest of the wall had been defiled. Just above the gun, where a portrait of James Buchanan had once been, hung the smug image of her father's repulsive looking new soon-to-be boss. Virginia glared at the painting, resisting the urge to pull it down and stomp on it.

_This was all his fault. He's the one filling Father's head with nonsensical ideas. It's because of him New York and the others are so unbearable to be around that the others left. We could have worked things out civilly if it wasn't for his interference._

The slam of the front door brought Virginia's attention back to her present situation.

"Come on Dad!" urged the voice of New York from down the hall.

"I'm not going to say no again." Said her father tersely.

"But he shot at me!"

"Just let it go. We'll give him some time to cool off and then we'll try again."

"Why are we bothering? Let's just go down there and beat the crap out of them! That's all the Southerners –"

The dark haired state stopped at the sight of Virginia glowering at him as he and America entered the study.

"That's all the Southerners what?" she said quietly.

New York responded quickly, "That's all they understand, a beating and a whipping. Hello dear sister, how you doin' today?"

America tried to speak but Virginia beat him to it.

"It's that kind of incredibly insulting slander that led us to this crisis in the first place!" she snapped.

"It aint slander if it's true" New York replied evenly.

"I can assure you, it is definitely not."

"Harriet Tubman told me differently."

"New York…" America said warningly.

"You saw her? Where? Is she in custody?" Virginia asked eagerly.

New York pretended to think, stroking his nonexistent beard before saying, "I was going to arrest her and ship her back to Maryland's place," here he put on a smug grin, "But she ran to Canada when my back was turned. Funny, I told her to stay put while I got the authorities so they could haul her back to slave land and certain death, and I only took a week to get around to it."

If Virginia was not a lady she would have said a long stream of horrible and repulsive words. Restraining herself, she still managed to turn an impressive shade of red and mouth certain phrases before finally regaining her voice and turning to her father.

"Father, I demand you do something about this!" she growled.

"Why don't you tell her how _you_ feel, Dad." New York said to him.

America was the one at a loss for words now. He looked from one expectant face to the other, obviously trying to find a reply to satisfy both states.

"I – I'm – well –" he finally just shook his head in exasperation. "Why don't we just put this subject on the shelf for now?"

"But Father!"

"Come on, Dad!"

"No! That's the end of it. New York, go wait in the dining room while I talk to your sister. We'll get back to our discussion when I'm done here." When it looked like the Northern state was going to protest he added, "Go before I tell New Jersey who's been stealing his immigrants."

That got New York out of the room, though not before he muttered, "Like he was using them anyway."

Virginia watched him march down the hall with daggers in her eyes, wishing her father was not between them so she could go up from behind to slap New York upside his obnoxious head. America waited until his son had turn had into another room before closing the door. Virginia set herself on the chair with the blanket hanging on it. "Favoritism." She muttered sullenly. Her father sighed again as he turned to her.

"I'm talking with you first, aren't I?"

"That's beside the point. How come whenever _they_ want a law passed you get it done in a heartbeat, but when we ask that an existing law just be enforced you turn a blind eye to them breaking it every chance they get?"

"Come on Virginia, you know that's not true." America said as he took a seat on a stool by the window

"It was true enough for South Carolina and the others." She said sternly. "You always paid more attention to New York and Massachusetts than you did the Carolina's or Alabama. They just wanted you to acknowledge that they had just as much rights as the rest of the family."

"They do have the same rights as the rest of the family!" America protested. "They're the ones with slaves, so technically they have more leeway then the rest."

"Rights you've made abundantly clear you won't allow to the younger children." Virginia got up and took several steps to face her father. "And another thing, tell the Northerners to stop making rude and outrageous comments about me behind my back. I can't leave my house without hearing them make some snide remark about how I'm a 'backwards' Southern state or I think I'm 'Queen Virginia' of the South." She pointed at the door from which New York had just left, "And he is not helping the matter!"

To Virginia's surprise, America actually laughed at the second name. "Queen Virginia? I should have thought of that."

"Father!"

America shook his head and leaned back against the window. "I'm sorry. It's not that funny. No, I really mean that." He said when Virginia gave him a skeptical look. "It's just that there's been so much going on lately I haven't heard something like that in awhile. I miss the times when the worst you all ever did was call each other names. Is this why you're here?"

"This is far more serious than you take it for, Father." Virginia said as she stared hard into his eyes. "Don't think that I am alone in their malicious gossip. Tennessee and North Carolina came to me complaining of the same thing."

America just looked at her in puzzlement.

"It's just teasing." He said slowly, "You don't need me to deal with this."

The Southern state groaned and reminded herself that her father did not pick up on even the most blatant of subtleties.

"Yes, I do need you to deal with this, because it's not just teasing." She said. "This is exactly the kind of favoritism I was talking about."

Virginia had unintentionally confused her father.

"What?" he said in bafflement. "What does this have to do with favoritism?"

"If you were sensitive to the feelings of the Southern states you would realize that, especially now, these words make them wonder why they should not join the rest of the succession instead of staying with siblings who don't appreciate them!" Virginia snapped. "They also feel slighted that you have yet to do anything to restrain the North!"

To his credit, America at least gave her words a few moments of thought before saying, "Oh."

Virginia's shoulders sagged. She had said that with more temper than she had intended but everything she had spoken was true.

"Honestly, Father," She said with a shake of her head, "Why must I always be on your case about situations like these? You are the United States of America; it's your responsibility to represent all of us to the world."

America chuckled. Virginia looked at him in surprise. "What's so amusing?"

"Nothing," he said, "You're right, though. I need to pay more attention to all of you. Once this blows over I promise I'll do more to let the South know I'm not ignoring them." Virginia watched as her father looked out the window, a small smile reflected off the glass. "This was a lot easier when there was just thirteen of you."

For a moment Virginia pictured herself in her father's place back then in 1776. Trying to look out for and feed a miniature of herself as well as a small North Carolina and Georgia and all the others. She tried visualizing herself with a little New York and South Carolina as well but all that came up in her head was a house on fire. Virginia shivered mentally. Perhaps she did not give her father enough credit sometimes.

America suddenly leaping off his stool with an excited shout startled Virginia out of her fantasy, causing her to jump back in surprise.

"I got it!" he exclaimed, turning to her with a big grin. "I know what to do now!"

"You do?" Virginia asked warily.

"Yeah! Well, actually I know what _you're _going to now."

"Me?" Apparently it was Virginia's turn to be baffled now.

America walked up to her and put his hand on her slim shoulder. He offered his daughter his brightest smile.

"I want you to get all your brothers and sisters together and figure out a way to keep all of you content. We need a new plan to make sure something like this doesn't happen again. Once I get your other siblings to see reason, we'll make sure the family is never strained like this again."

Something about his language bothered her. "Father," she began, "You do realize that –"

"You'll be in charge of the meeting, okay?" America interrupted suddenly.

"Me? Why me?"

"You're my eldest," he said "Regardless of how they feel about the South as a whole, your Northern siblings still respect you for that, regardless of what they say. You're the responsible one in this family, even our prodigal children know that."

She stood a little straighter at the compliment, but again her father's words nagged her. "Thank you, Father. But about –"

"I know I put a lot on you, Virginia." Her father said, suddenly solemn, "And I know you always look out for the wellbeing of the family. Your brothers and sisters might not appreciate your nagging, but I depend on it. Honestly, I don't know what I'd do without you."

He gave Virginia's shoulder a tight squeeze. The state said nothing, realizing she was with her father in a rare moment of seriousness. Two pairs of blue eyes stared intently into each other, daughter and father seeing into each other.

Then he ruined it by lifting his hand off her shoulder and set it atop her head, ruffling her, until just then, neatly combed blonde hair.

"But don't over do it, okay?" he grinned, "Remember, you're their sister, not their mother. Leave the parental lectures to me."

He laughed as Virginia shrieked and batted his arm off her head. It had taken her an hour to get her hair just right! Her father ignored Virginia's irritated glare and headed towards the door. "I'm going to your uncle's for a few days." He said as he turned the knob. "I'll take New York so you two don't kill each other on your way out."

Virginia did not deign to reply to that.

"Oh, and we're holding off Michigan's birthday party until the rest of the South come back."

There it was again. "Father," she began, but America continued to talk as if he had not heard her.

"We don't want anybody to miss the celebration. See you later!"

With that, Virginia's father strode down the hall and out of her sight. From the other room she could hear New York jabbering off now that he had America all to himself. Within seconds they were out the front door and on their way north.

Virginia did not move from her father's study, trying as she was to understand her father's mind. He was not stupid, even if she wasn't his daughter and obligated to speak highly of him, she knew that while certainly rash and abrasive, America could exercise great mental capabilities at the drop of a hat. So what was his problem? Was he in denial? Talking as if the succession was just the South blowing off some steam?

_We're holding off Michigan's birthday party until the rest of the South come back._

"Father," Virginia said quietly, "Don't understand? The rest of the South is _not_ coming back."

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I was going to add footnotes considering the amount of historical references but then I realized they'd take as much space as the chapter itself. If you really want to know what's what in connection to real life history tell me and I'll put in notes later. Though I recommend just reading about the Civil War and have fun spotting the references yourself!

Oh, yeah. Don't forget to review!


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